Fade Away
by thisislandgirl
Summary: The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.
1. The Fall of Gil Grissom

**Fade Away**

**Fandom: **CSI

**Character(s): **Grissom, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, Sara, Brass, Greg

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATHS**, AU (future 2010 and beyond), drug/alcohol use, gambling, heavy character angst, mentions of illness, violence.

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights to these characters and/or the show. I'm making no money, just borrowing them for a short time.

**Summary: **The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.

**Part One- The Fall Of Gil Grissom**

No one noticed anything at first; he had always been a little . . . 'out there' as some had put it. A little forgetful when he had his mind wrapped tightly around a case. It was expected. But he had never forgotten any detail pertaining to the case, no matter how minute. And he had certainly never gotten lost, especially in the lab. He knew the layout by heart, could traverse it without incident with his head buried in a file.

But that May was when people really started to worry and call his memory into question.

_His footsteps echoed as he walked down the quiet corridor, eyes buried in a file. James Callow, 27, the newest suspect in the Holladay murders, was waiting in an interview room with Brass. And that's where he was headed, at least that's what he thought until a hand grabbed his arm and halted his progress. Grissom looked up into the grinning but slightly concerned face of Nick and realized he was nowhere near his destination._

_'Hey Gris. I thought you were going to interview that kid Brass bought in?' Nick pulled him to the side of the hallway, still smiling but Grissom could see the worry lingering behind it._

_'Yeah, I was just on my way there now.' The side of his mouth quirked in a small smile._

_'You okay, man?' Nick's smile slipped from his face as he tentatively put his hand on Grissom's arm and gave it gentle squeeze._

_Grissom just nodded, not entirely sure. But instead of giving voice to his concern, he gave Nick a pointed look. 'Something you need?'_

_'Uh, yeah. I've got something you might want to see before you go talk to him. Greg's got the DNA results from the saliva found on the youngest daughter's shirt.'_

_Grissom, try as he might, couldn't keep the confusion off his face. Saliva? He glanced back down at the file in his hands but resisted the urge to flip through his notes to refresh his suddenly depleted memory. Instead, he nodded and followed Nick down the hallway._

And it had gotten progressively worse over the next few weeks. Only after the urging and prodding from those closest, did he go and finally get checked out. Warrick and Nick had joked that it was finally old age and teenage experiments with drugs catching up with him. But behind their laughter was concern.

Three months later, he called a meeting of the graveyard shift, gathering all his CSIs into his office to make the announcement that would test us all.

_'What's going on Gris? What's with the meeting?' Nick asked as he strolled into the bug-filled office with Warrick. 'We getting a raise or something?'_

_'Yeah, picture that!' Warrick laughed as he closed the door behind him. The easygoing mood that had always surrounded the group filled the room with snickers and snorts. But as the banter died down, the air was filled with tension as they all turned their eyes to their supervisor._

_'Gris?' Sara was the first to note the nostalgic look in Grissom's eyes._

_'I was just thinking.' He smiled at his team as he leaned forward, arms resting on a desk devoid of papers and its usual paraphernalia. This wasn't lost on the team anymore than the intent blue gaze was; the gaze that seemed to soak in each of them before Gil started to speak again. _

_'I got the test results back.' No one needed to ask what tests, for they all knew. But it did suddenly dawn on them all that whatever words were about to follow next weren't going to be good. He didn't make them wait long as he decided no tact was needed with his closest friends. 'It appears that I'm in the early stages of Alzheimer's.'_

Nothing was right after that meeting, for anyone. We had all walked out of the office in a daze that night, not really comprehending much beyond the fact that the ever unflappable, indestructible Gilbert Grissom was now on a downhill slope with the rolling rocks under his unstable feet carrying him to a faster descent. Still in the early stages of the disease process, but failing rapidly, Grissom handed over his position as supervisor to Catherine.

He still came in almost everyday, unofficially consulting on cases and giving his expert opinion on bugs. He was still very much a part of lab life until early December when Brass came into the break room, a grim look on his face.

_He listened to the laughter as graveyard gathered in the break room a few minutes before shift, a well-known and well-loved tradition. And he knew as soon as he stepped through that threshold, he would break their hearts. But it needed to be done._

_'Hey Brass!' came the cheerful call from Warrick as he sunk back into the couch with a mug of coffee. But the smile slipped from Warrick's face only a moment later._

_'I've got some bad news, guys. Gil's been in an accident and is on his way to Desert Palm.' He quickly held up his hands to stave off the worried questions that were sure to come. 'He appears to be fine, just a few minor cuts and bruises. The first officer on scene said he was extremely disoriented.' He sighed and rubbed his forehead before continuing. 'It was only his car. He hit a pole on a back road so no one else was involved. We don't need to investigate but someone should head over to the hospital to check on him. He was asking for you, Nick.'_

_All eyes turned to Nick as he swallowed convulsively. But he never said a word, just threw his cup in the trash, pulled his keys from his pocket and headed out the door._

At first, we all wondered about Grissom's request for Nick over anyone else, but after mulling it over, it only made sense. Once Nick had gotten over his initial hero-worship and incessant need to please Grissom, they had become close, evidently closer than we realized, like father and son. So it was Nick who made all the arrangements for in-home nursing care for Grissom even though Jim held Gil's power of attorney. And it was Nick that went to visit and sit with him before and after shift everyday.

The next year, in June, Gil Grissom as everyone knew him was lost to the world. Oh, he was still there physically. But mentally he was a different story, trapped in a whole other world where his friends and family no longer existed. It broke us all to go and visit him, which we did as often as possible, even though he never knew we were there. It hurt Nick and Sara the worst, Nick losing his surrogate father and Sara losing the closest thing she ever had to a lover.

Sure, he had moments of almost coherency; moments when he would look at someone's face and a flicker of recognition would flash across his face. But as the months wore on those moments became fewer and farther between. That was when we all made the decision to move him to a full-time facility out in California, his real home and where we all knew he'd want to be in his final days. Nick had taken two weeks to go out with him and get him settled. That's when we all knew that Gilbert Grissom, entomologist, CSI, greatest mentor known to us, man undeserving of this hell life served him at the age of 55, was slowly fading away.

_TBC_

Next Part- Unlucky Stokes


	2. Unlucky Stokes

**Fade Away: A Series of One-Shots (2 of 6)**

**Fandom/Genre: **CSI; general, angst, friendship

**Character(s): **Grissom, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, Sara, Brass, Greg

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATHS**, AU (future 2010 and beyond), drug/alcohol use, gambling, heavy character angst, mentions of illness, violence. (in later chapters)

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights to these characters and/or the show. I'm making no money, just borrowing them for a short time.

**Summary: **The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo **

**Part Two- Unlucky Stokes**

After Nick had come back from California, we all noticed a change in him. Not just physically, but mentally as well. He looked older to our eyes, his hair silvering at the temples at the young age of 40. The fine lines around his eyes and mouth now looking like old leather, well worn and deeply creased. He still smiled, but it lacked its usual luster, as did the sparkle in his eyes. The news of Grissom had hit him hard, it had for everyone, but Nick was taking it the hardest. It even began to affect his work.

_Nick sat back in his chair in the evidence room, rubbing his forehead, trying to massage away the ever-present headache and willing his blurry vision to clear for a few more minutes. He never heard Catherine walk into the room and never felt her hand upon his shoulder until her fingers brushed against his face._

_'Hey Nicky. You okay? You're lookin' a little rough around the edges.' She gave him a small smile as she pulled up a stool and sat next to him, eyes scanning the photos and various other pieces of evidence scattered around him. Nick just shrugged and pulled his glasses back on. 'Any breaks in the case?'_

_'No' was his simple and disinterested answer. He probably would've had some type of lead by now if he could put to thoughts together, if he could focus on more than the pounding in his skull and the aching in his chest. He tried to clear his throat but ended up in a harsh coughing fit. Catherine just rubbed his back until he was able to catch his breath again then handed him his bottle of water._

_'Why don't you skip out early, Nicky? Sounds like you're catching a bug. Take one of those sick days he have saved up and take care of yourself. I'll transfer your case to one of the guys on swing shift, they're always complaining about no overtime.'_

_Her attempt at humor wasn't lost on Nick, but he was more focused on swallowing back the tangy copper taste and not falling off his chair. Instead, he just nodded and stumbled out of the lab._

And Nick had taken the next two days off and had been almost an hour late for shift when he came in on the third day. We had missed him at assignments, but as we gathered back in the break room a few hours later, we were more than a little concerned. Warrick's jibs of slacking off and faking sick died on his lips as we saw him lying on the couch looking, for lack of a better word, like hell.

_Nick was laying on the couch, his arms thrown over his face to block out the florescent lights. Even from the doorway, they could hear each breath he took, labored and rattling inside his chest. They shuffled in quietly, Warrick, Catherine, Sara, and Greg, but it was Catherine who knelt by the couch. Her hand gently squeezed Nick's arm as she called his name softly. His eyes blinked open, slowly focusing on the four figures hovering nervously over him._

_As he went to sit up, waves of dizziness washed over him. Harsh coughs tore through his chest, leaving his lips tinted red from the blood he brought up. 'Just a bug' they had thought. They had never been more wrong._

_Catherine rested the back of her hand on Nick's forehead and frowned at the heat, her critical, maternal eye taking in the swollen glands, lines of fatigue, the wheezing. 'You need to go to the doctor's Nick. You shouldn't be here.' It wasn't patronizing, but concerned. They all were._

_Warrick handed Nick a bottle of water, not knowing what else to do. Sara and Greg were also at a lose as they stood quietly a few feet away, unable to tear their gaze away from Nick's face. 'Yeah bro. You should go home and get some rest. Looks like those two days did nothing.'_

_Nick nodded and went to stand up only to find the room spinning around him. Catherine and Warrick were immediately there holding him steady, but he didn't stay upright for long. Greg and Sara watched in horror as Nick's eyes rolled back in his head and his body started to collapse to the ground, convulsing. Someone screamed for an ambulance, a few other voices cried out Nick's name, and dozens of eyes watched Nick's body in the throes of a seizure._

Lung cancer. End stage. Metastasized to his brain and lower abdomen. That's what the doctor had told us at the hospital after hours of waiting. No one had expected that blow. There were treatment options but the doctor was grim about Nick's prognosis. Maybe a year or two at most with emergency surgery and chemo. Inside of two months if left untreated.

We swallowed the harsh reality, trying not to grimace as it dropped like a lead weight in our stomachs, and followed the doctor to Nick's room. We all tried to smile and be strong when Nick's eyes opened, tried to be reassuring, but there's no bull shitting a bullshitter, that was for sure. He knew. But he still held his head high, wiping away Catherine and Sara's tears. And even mine and Warrick's near the end.

They could take out his one infected lung. Chemo would work on the cancer in his other lung and abdomen. But the five-centimeter mass invading his brain was inoperable and ultimately untreatable. So Nick made the call. Take out the lung, go a round of chemo and radiation, then go home. He was adamant about not spending his last few days staring at hospital walls. So three weeks after he was admitted, Nick was sent home with a morphine pump, an oxygen tank, and inside of five months to live.

August came and went with Nick hanging in there. He frequented the lab on good days with his in-home nurse. And on bad days never left the comfort of his bed. The rest of the year went much the same way, each day Nick failing a little more. When he had the energy, he would entertain us, trying and failing miserably to get a laugh from us when he joked about his upcoming 'expiration date' as he called it. And when the new year came and went with Nick still with us, everyone breathed a small sigh of relief.

I had even once heard someone comment that they were glad that Grissom was out of touch with reality because it would have killed him to see Nick so incapacitated. I silently agreed.

But stubborn Nick hung on. He had promised Lindsay when she was younger that he would come to her graduation. And that was a promise he kept. Come June, Nick sat alongside Catherine at the ceremony, dozing in his wheelchair until Lindsay's name was called. It probably took all his energy to clap and smile for her, but he did it anyway. And looking back, that was probably Nick's last hurrah.

Two weeks after Lindsay's graduation party, Nick's nurse called us and told us he had slipped into a coma. We all went to visit him one last time, staying by his bedside until his heart stilled. It was un-dramatic, unlike all the other events that had surround Nick in life. It was almost peaceful. There were no lines of pain or fatigue on his face. Just a faint whimsical smile. He was finally free like the birds he loved so much.

After Nick's funeral, we took a trip out to visit Grissom, unsure of what we were hoping for. Part of me wanted Grissom to be coherent enough to realize what had happened, but another part of me want to spare him the pain the rest of us were feeling. One thing was for sure though, it would take a lot more than a destructive disease process to destroy the memories of the strong headed, kindhearted Texan. And it would take a whole lot longer for Nick Stokes' memory to fade from our minds.

_TBC_

Next Part- A New Life

A/N: I'm sorry that Nicky had to die, but as you will see with the rest of this story, no one is untouchable. I'm not a doctor so the brief medical stuff is just general info. And as you have probably already figured out, the stories are being told from a team member's point of view. They shall be revealed at the end, if you haven't already figured it out.


	3. A New Life

**Fade Away: A Series of One-Shots (3 of 6)**

**Fandom/Genre: **CSI; general, angst, friendship

**Character(s): **Grissom, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, Sara, Brass, Greg

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATHS**, AU (future 2010 and beyond), drug/alcohol use, gambling, heavy character angst, mentions of illness, violence. (in later chapters)

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights to these characters and/or the show. I'm making no money, just borrowing them for a short time.

**Summary: **The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

**Part Three- A New Life**

Only a short time after our trip to California, three weeks to the day after Nick had died, did we learn our new fate. It wasn't Ecklie this time, though it probably would've been easier to bear if it had been, nor was it the Sheriff or politics. It came from the inside, a blow no one expected. Our first night back to work Catherine called us all into her office, though it wasn't for assignments or chitchat. This time it was serious.

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_One by one, the remaining members of the graveyard shift filed into Catherine's office, though to them, it would always belong to Grissom. No one smiled or laughed, there were no jokes tossed around about raises or vacation days, just somber faces. There was nothing to be happy about; there hadn't been for a while now. Catherine sat behind the desk, a picture frame in her hands, her eyes gazing down at it, lost in thought until the door clicked closed._

_When her eyes did travel up, they were shining with unshed tears and a steely determination. She brushed her thumb over the glass covering Nick's smiling face before she sat the picture back down. She stood and came around the side of the desk to face them fully. There was no easy way to say it, she decided. She couldn't even look them in the face as she spoke._

_'I'm putting my notice in to Ecklie at the end of shift.'_

_No one spoke for a moment, no one moved until Warrick shakily settled himself into one of the chairs, his hands quickly going to cover his face. Sara's jaw tightened, her hands clenching and unclenching in fists that begged to slam into something. Greg just looked lost, like a little child who saw too much. _

_And what did Catherine do? Nothing. She was frozen in place, knowing the emotions that were tearing her remaining friends apart but unable to make herself move._

_'I'm sorry,' she finally whispered, her hand coming to rest on Warrick's shoulder. She could feel the muscles trembling, but whether it was with anger or grief, she couldn't tell. _

_'You're sorry?!' Warrick finally exploded. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder as he jumped up from his chair. 'How can you do this to us?! I mean, really Cath. I just watched my best friend di-', he couldn't finish the word as a sob escaped. Three weeks vacation had done nothing but deepen the wound. 'And now you're gonna leave us. You're being a coward-'_

_He never got to finish as Catherine came toe to toe with him, her eyes flashing as she grabbed his hands in not anger, but desperation. 'You think I want to leave? To do this to you guys? Use your head Warrick!' She released his hands and unsteadily walked back to the desk, dropping in her chair with a heavy sigh._

_'Then why are you doing this?' Greg's voice, though a whisper, seemed to echo in the tense silence._

_'All my life I've lost those closest to me, lost my family. I lost Eddie, Sam, Grissom, and now Nicky. It sucks, but that's life. I have to focus on what I still have. You guys and Lindsay are all I have left. And right now, Linds needs me more. She's been accepted to a college in Maine and I was offered a job there. I'm gonna take it, I need to take it.' Her hands shook as she picked up the picture again. 'I promised to stay to help break in the newbie and I made Ecklie promise not to break you guys up. But I'm leaving in September and one of you will be promoted to supervisor.'_

_Greg was the first to move, going over to Catherine and pulling her into a tight hug. 'Its okay. You need to be with Lindsay.' A tear slipped down his cheek as he pulled away and caught sight of the picture she was holding of the team, three years ago, after a softball game. All smiles and laughter, before they all knew their fate._

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7_  
_

True to her word, Catherine stayed all through August. Though we tried to make the best of our time left, we just couldn't pretend everything was as it had always been. There were no breakfast outings after shift, no parties in the break room, no jokes tossed around at scenes. We were strictly business now; something I'm sure Nick would have been dissatisfied with.

Catherine's last day came and went without pomp. The supervisor position had gone to Sara after Warrick refused it. Our newbie was transferred to swing shift and one of Ecklie's guys got dropped on us. Cath only gave us a pitying look when she clocked out for the last time and went home to finish packing, leaving the three of us standing in the locker room staring at the now three empty lockers.

It was two weeks before any one of us heard from Cath again. And even then, it was nothing more than a quick email.

_Just wanted to let you guys know we got here and are finally unpacked. Linds loves the school and loves it here though the weather is taking some getting used to. I'll call you once we get the phone hooked up. Love you guys. –Cath_

We missed her terribly and tensions ran higher with every day that passed. But for the sake of sanity and promises made, we stuck together. We made an effort to be happy, but we weren't immune to the effects of the horrors life kept throwing to us. Who would be next? No one voiced the question but it was on all our minds. Who would be the next to crack under the pressure? Whose life would be cut short by death and end up six feet under?

It was a week after the email before I actually spoke to Catherine. A rough case had taken its toll on all of us and when I got home the only thing I wanted to hear was her voice of reason. I picked up the phone and dialed her cell number, praying she would answer so I wouldn't be denied the only comfort I had left.

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_'Hello?' Catherine's voice sounded oddly chipper, but then again, he had never heard her at ten in the morning._

_'Cath. Hi. I hope I'm not calling at a bad time.'_

_'Greg? Oh, hey. How's Vegas?' He could hear her cover the phone and mumble something. He couldn't deny the way her voice seemed to sadden a bit at recognition of her caller._

_'It sucks.' He really hadn't meant to say that. He had meant to be happy, positive, find out how _she_ was doing. The last thing he wanted to do was pour his problems on someone hundreds of miles away. But his tongue ran away before his brain could catch up._

_'Everything sucks here, Cath. We're trying but its not working. I miss Nick and I miss Griss. I miss you! I don't know how much longer I can do this.' He paused to take a breath, but before he could start again, he heard a muffled sob on the other end of the line. Rants and apologies died on his lips as his words finally registered. He couldn't hold back his own sob._

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_

Catherine and I cried over the phone for almost an hour before she had to go to get ready for work. If it had been any other person, I would have thought it to be an excuse. But there had been a real note of anguish as she said good-bye. We were in the same boat, sinking faster and faster. And strangely enough, I was comforted by that fact. At least I wasn't alone.

Two more weeks passed without a phone call or email from her. No one had heard from her since that horrid week. Warrick had said that the conversation he and Catherine had had ended up much the same way as ours; tears, sobs, and good-byes full of regrets and unsaid words. Two weeks turned into two months. Two months turned into three, then four. Four became six. A year came and went with little contact. The last we heard, she was finally content. Warrick said he heard she had met someone and that Linds was in the top of her class.

Catherine was finally happy. Her old life in Vegas faded into the background of her new life, and her old friends along with it. But I couldn't have been happier for her. That's why we didn't call her when fate dealt us another bad hand. She deserved to be happy.

_TBC_

Next Part- An Old Habit


	4. An Old Habit

**Fade Away: A Series of One-Shots (4 of 6)**

**Fandom/Genre: **CSI; general, angst, friendship

**Character(s): **Grissom, Nick, Catherine, **Warrick**, Sara, Brass, Greg

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATHS**, AU (future 2010 and beyond), drug/alcohol use, gambling, heavy character angst, mentions of illness, violence. (in later chapters)

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights to these characters and/or the show. I'm making no money, just borrowing them for a short time.

**Summary: **The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

**Part Four- An Old Habit**

The only thing that hit Warrick harder than watching his best friend die slowly in front of his eyes, was when Catherine had left. It was no lie and no secret around the lab that Warrick had been slightly favored by Grissom, that he and Catherine had had a 'thing' going on, and that he and Nick had become closer than brothers. And now the man's main support system was gone. Sure, he could and would still call Cath when things got hard, but there's only so much comfort you can draw from words spoken miles away.

For our part, Sara and I tried to be there for Warrick, as was Brass. It was hard, there was no denying that, but we did our best. We could see him slipping a little farther away with each passing day, yet we were powerless to stop it. Sara once said to me 'We solve crimes everyday, using fibers and invisible prints to place a suspect at the scene. We perform little miracles for our victims, but when it comes to protecting those we love, we're just like the rest of the world. Vulnerable and helpless.' And she was right. All we could do was sit back and watch, wondering when that time bomb in Warrick would go off.

It only took four months.

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

_Warrick hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle of the door for a moment before he pushed it open. Did he smell of last night's activities? Would they know just by looking at him? No one noticed the bloodshot eyes and the whiskey breath until he was seated with Sara and Greg in her office. Wisely, they said nothing about it._

_'Have you talked to Cath recently?' Greg asked as Warrick settled back into the chair. His voice held nothing except for honest curiosity, but Warrick couldn't help the flinch. A wave of anger and misery washed over him for a moment before he reined it back in._

_'Uh, yeah. We spoke last night, briefly. She's, uh, doing good up there I guess. Jobs good. Met a guy . . .' he let the sentence trial off into silence, hoping that they would get the idea and not push any further._

_Sara's only response, a pure Grissom expression if he knew any better, was just the raise of her eyebrow. Greg, however, looked shocked. Almost . . . hurt. His jaw dropped before he caught himself and snapped it shut._

_'She's _dating_ someone?'_

_Warrick could only nod. Yeah, it appeared that Catherine had really moved on, kept everything in the past in the past. It was expected but that didn't mean it hurt any less._

_Warrick need another drink._

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

After that night, we all knew where Warrick would end up. As a friend, a very concerned friend, I tailed him that night as he left work and headed up the strip. It was no surprise when he pulled up in front of the Mirage. I could almost hear the raging war that had to be going on inside his head. And that night, the voice of reason won out. He pulled away form the building and headed back to his house.

But two days later, as he was getting ready for shift, a cash slip from the Sphere slipped out of his pocket. Looked like he had gotten lucky before shift judging by the timestamp and the amount written down. He looked over, meeting my gaze as he picked it up. I just smiled and slipped my holster onto my belt before slamming my locker and heading out. The thought of cluing Sara in crossed my mind, but it wasn't my place, was it?

That night, guilt and concern eating away at me, I tailed Warrick again, joining him at the empty Blackjack table at the unusual hour of 5am. Then it was tequila shots at 7 and crashing in a suite with another bottle and our winnings.

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

_Warrick stumbled out of the elevator, waving his bottle of tequila in one hand and a nice stack of cash in the other. Greg, a little more sober, gave Warrick a shove into their room and away form the curious eyes of the early rising tourists. They must have looked a sight, two crime scene investigators drunk in a hotel. Warrick laughed and flopped back on the bed, his body bouncing up and down._

_After a few gulps from the bottle, Warrick passed it on, not looking in Greg's direction as he silently fingered the money in his hand. There was a look of contemplation on his face, Greg noticed as he capped the bottle and kicked it under the bed. Some part of his mind must've still been working as he had gotten them a room, neither capable of driving nor wanting to go home. And now that part was telling him that he would need to do a lot of explaining to Sara tonight._

_It wasn't until Warrick's whisper broke the silence, that he tore he gaze away from his twisting hands in his lap._

_"I promised them." Warrick sat up, still fingering the bills. "After what happened with Holly, I promised them I'd never place a bet again. And they held me to it." He let out a sigh and placed the money on the nightstand between the two beds. There was no other sound for a moment as Warrick settled himself back against the headboard, one of the pillows crushed against his chest._

_When he spoke again, he sounded strangely sober despite the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "When things would get tough, they would distract me. Nick would go to the gym with me, we'd go running or lift weights until I was too tired to care about anything else. Or we'd go for a beer after shift and just hang out. A few times he even came to the casino with me, played cards and made sure I didn't blow too much cash. Kinda like you." A small smile ghosted over his lips, a sort of sorrowful smile. "Cath would drag me to the diner and I'd end up spilling my guts. And Griss . . . well he let me know in his own little way, ya know? Like take me aside or just give me the look, asking if I was okay or if I needed anything." A small nostalgic smile tugged at his lips._

_"Do you miss 'em?" Sure it was a stupid question, Greg thought, but it felt like it needed answering. '_Do you miss them as much as I miss them?_'_

_Warrick slowly turned to look at Greg, a mixture of sorrow and amusement swimming in those green depths. "Yeah," a tear slipped from his eyes and rolled unheeded down his cheek. A few more joined in and before they knew it, both were sobbing. "Yeah G, I miss 'em more every day."_

_"Me too."_

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After that morning, Warrick and I had an unspoken bond. We became closer for Blackjack, tears, and too much tequila. No, I'd never replace Nick or Cath or even Grissom, but I felt like I carved away my own little spot in Warrick Brown's heart. Almost every night we'd get together at a casino and play a few rounds. No big spending. No more drinking either because neither of us really wanted to revisit that night.

And life went on for a little while, almost as if a time bomb wasn't ticking the seconds away.

The first time it happened, Sara and Brass excused it, not saying anything when Warrick showed up late to a scene. He looked pretty haggard. Eyes bloodshot, last night's clothes wrinkled. I chalked it up to a bad morning since I had worked a double and hadn't been able to meet Warrick at the bar. That night Warrick told me he wasn't going to the bar or the casino. He was heading home and going to bed. I knew the lie for what it was, a quiet dismissal of our ritual. It was painfully obvious that he was spending more time guzzling down JD than bagging Zs. We all noticed the change in his mood too. Aggressive and angry.

The second and third time times, Sara had started to worry. And so did I. The fourth time, Sara had called him and bitched him out, then apologized profusely when he came in twenty minutes later looking for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed. But it seemed that no matter what we did, Warrick had finally slipped through our fingers. One night he got in a bar fight and came in looking like he went with a few rounds with Mike Tyson. And lady luck, it seemed, had left him after his winning streak as well.

But the next time it happened . . . well, no one knew what to think.

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_'Come on Greg. I don't know where he is, but we can't wait for him.' Sara sighed as she slammed the office phone down. 'Brass said it's a hot scene, we need to leave now. Grab your stuff and meet me outside.'_

_Greg nodded and headed out to grab his kit from the locker room. Once again, Warrick was over an hour late for his shift, though they should have expected it today of all days. He didn't think Sara realized it, but today marked one year since Nick's death. If Warrick was gonna hit the casinos and bars, today was the day. So as one set of fingers wrapped around the handle of his kit, the others quickly dialed Warrick's number._

_He'd seen a lot of things in his time as a CSI, like brutal beatings, dismembered bodies, and blood bathed houses. This qualified as none of them, so there was no reason for the feeling of dread coiling in his stomach. It was a black male in a small pool of blood. Signs of a struggle, bloody hand prints, and spatter all leading up to where the body lay face down, arms covering his head as if he were trying to . . . protect himself, Greg noticed with sickening realization. He fought down the images and memories that particular position brought up and instead concentrated on the ground around the body._

_Jim gave them a curt nod, a grim look upon his face. 'He's got no ID on him. No wallet, no cell, no money. Only a clip for a missing pager. Looks like a robbery gone bad. Garbage man found him, said the victim was still bleeding when he arrived. He ran back to his truck to call 911. When he came back, the guy was dead. Paramedics were called off, no one's touched him.'_

_Sara and Greg circled the body as Dave finished up his notes._

_'Hey guys. I didn't move him. Thought I'd wait for you. TOD was less than an hour ago, no rigor. COD? My guess is blunt force trauma with major damage to the head.' Dave handed his clipboard off to his assistant and stepped back so the CSIs would have access._

_After every inch of the body was photographed and documented, Sara gave Jim and Dave a nod. 'Let's roll him. We need a few more photos of his face then he's all yours Dave.'_

_As Greg knelt down next to the victim's shoulder, he couldn't suppress the dread. He told himself he was making connections were there weren't any, empathizing with someone he didn't know. Anxiety was running away with his mind as he got a closer look at the expensive and familiar dress shirt. Trying to shake off the feelings, he gave a nod to Dave and started to gently roll the body._

_They couldn't have moved him more than a few inches when Greg, and only Greg, got a good look at the victim's face. Even through the blood and ante mortem swelling, the face was unmistakable. 'Oh god.' Greg turned his head to the side as nausea washed over him, losing every bit of control over his shaking body as his stomach emptied its content._

_Jim and Sara were immediately down on the ground, trying to see what had Greg so upset. With his back turned to them, Greg couldn't see their faces, but he knew the instant recognition dawned on them. A gasp, a sob, and a muttered curse sound all at the same time._

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No matter what I did, how often I tried to forget, the one image I can't erase from my mind, even to this day, is the bruised, mottled, and lifeless face of Warrick Brown looking back up at me.

_TBC_

_Next Part- _Off the Map and Over the Edge


	5. Off the Map and Over the Edge

**Fade Away: A Series of One-Shots (5 of 6)**

**Fandom/Genre: **CSI; general, angst, friendship

**Character(s): **Grissom, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, **Sara**, **Brass**, Greg

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATHS**, AU (future 2010 and beyond), drug/alcohol use, gambling, heavy character angst, mentions of illness, violence, **GSR implied in this chapter**

**Disclaimer:** I own no rights to these characters and/or the show. I'm making no money, just borrowing them for a short time.

**Summary: **The longer a team works together, the stronger they become. But even the strongest fall sometime.

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

**Part Five- Off the Map and Over the Edge**

We refused to be taken off the case, even when both Ecklie and the Sheriff threatened to fire us. We wouldn't be intimidated. We were determined to find our friend's murderer, no matter what.

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_Sara stood up on shaky legs, dragging her arm across her face in a futile attempt to wipe away the cascade of tears. Jim ran his hands roughly over his face a few times. 'Oh Jesus' was all he seemed to be able to get out. Dave just looked shocked, unsure of what to do next. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the camera and started taking a few shots. Jim jumped up and grabbed a sheet, using it to block the curious eyes of the surrounding officers and bystanders. Warrick deserved better. He deserved to hold on to that last shred of dignity, even in death._

_His body was quickly, but carefully bagged and loaded into the van. Dave went over to Sara's side, wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a gentle squeeze before he drove off. Sara ripped off her gloves, tossing them in an evidence bag. She glanced around the scene, fresh tears still running down the well worn tracks on her cheeks. Her gaze landed on Greg, still kneeling and shaking near a wall._

_'Greggo,' she whispered as she knelt by his side, draping her arm across his shoulders and pulling him closer. She heard the muffled sob as he buried his face in her shoulder. Her arms tightened their hold, her hands fisting in his shirt as she finally let go._

_Jim watched from a distance, the sheet still clutched in white knuckled fists, and couldn't help but think of how proud Gil would be. He felt the burn of tears in his own eyes, and for the first time in years, he allowed a few to slip passed his defenses. The captain in him said that they should get to work, but the friend in him didn't have the heart. Sara and Greg had gone through so much in the past two years. Not only had they buried one friend, but no they had to find the murderer of another. He wondered when life would give them all a break._

_Greg was the first to break away from the embrace, wiping his face on his shirt sleeves as he helped Sara to her feet. It took them another minute to fully collect themselves, but as they passed Jim to grab their discarded kits, they gave him a look that said they'd get through it. Then wordlessly they started collecting evidence, taking blood samples from the blood pools and handprints, photographing shoe prints, and digging through the dumpster for the missing property._

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Inconclusive. That's what the DA had told us when he refused to take Warrick's case to trial. The evidence was inconclusive. That and if word got out about Warrick's behavior since Nick's death and the fact that his two friends worked his case, the perp would get nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a fine. We said that any punishment was justice, but of course everyone has a reputation to look out for.

All the blood in the alley belonged to Warrick, including all the handprints. He had fought back, _good boy_, but after one blow to the head, he could do nothing but try and crawl away. The shoe prints didn't pan out, one set belonging to the garbage man and the other three were generic shoes, they could belong to anybody. We found Warrick's wallet in the bottom of the dumpster, all his cash gone leaving only his ID, credit cards, and a gaming chip for the Mirage tucked behind his license. His smashed pager and cell phone were there as well, only a partial print that had a hit in AFIS belonging to a Jesse Smith. His rap sheet was short, minor assault. Guess he escalated.

Sara just wasn't the same after that day, though I doubt any of us were unchanged after all that had happened. But Sara didn't smile anymore, no jokes. She was all serious no matter how hard I tried to coax even a grin out of her. She didn't cry anymore, except for the night after we broke the case. I found her in her office, sitting on the floor in the middle of a pile of scattered pictures, sobbing.

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_'Thanks Hodges, I'll go tell Sara.' Greg grabbed the file folder off the metal counter and headed out into the hall. It had been four nights since Warrick's . . . case and they hadn't had time to spare, getting swamped with numerous cases. As they had come on shift that night they had learned the news from the DA that they wouldn't be filing on Warrick's case. Since then Greg hadn't seen Sara. She had sent him off to work a case with one of the other CSIs that came to graveyard, then locked herself in the office._

_Greg stopped short when he got to the door. It was dark inside and the blinds on the windows were drawn. He could faintly see the outline of Sara where she sat in the shadows against the back wall. He knocked gently, then pushed the door open._

_'Sara?' He let the door click closed behind him and dropped the file onto the desk. As he neared her, he could see the pictures laid out before her. A picture of Warrick and Cath after one of Lindsey's plays here, the picture of the team after a softball game there. There was a postcard from Grissom, a Christmas card from Nick, and numerous other sentimental pieces of paper. 'Sara.'_

_Her hands trembled as she clutched the most recent picture of the original team in her hands. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. He recognized the picture, it was taken a few months before Gil had gotten sick. They were all gathered around a table, dressed up for one of the charity banquets they were forced to go to. Gil, Jim, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Sara, and himself, all smiling and happy without a care in the world. How things had changed since then._

_Greg carefully pushed the pictures aside so he could kneel in front of Sara. And like she had done for him four days ago, Greg pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close as she wept. It was out of the need to comfort and to be comforted, out of need for human contact and friendship, with desperation and sorrow that he held her and let his own tears slip quietly down his cheeks while she sobbed violently._

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

Three months later, Jim came to us personally and told us he was retiring. He said he was too old to do this anymore. It was time for him to stand down and let the younger guys run the show. But he wasn't just retiring. He was moving back to Jersey, back to his family. It was rumored that Ellie had shown back up with her mother in Jersey and Brass needed one more chance to make it all right.

More than anyone else, Sara and I understood perfectly.

His departure was subtle. No party and no good-byes. He just gave his two week notice, then turned in his gun and badge. That day he came to us, met us in Sara's office and told us he would be heading back home the next day. He didn't want good-byes because he knew that this wasn't the last time we'd see him.

'Take care, Greg. Keep her on her toes' he motioned to Sara and gave me a sly grin. 'Everyone's proud of you two.'

Then he had moved off and gave Sara a quick hug, whispering a few words in her ear before he headed out the door.

We heard from him a week later, just to tell us where he was and to give us his new number if we should ever need him.

And once again time went on as if nothing had happened.

Another year came and went before Sara pulled me aside and told me what I had known was coming for a long time.

**L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7**

_'Greg, can I talk to you?' Sara came into the break room, a nervous and sorrowful expression on her face._

_Greg threw his cup away and picked up his case file before following Sara down the hall to her office. He shut to door and slid into one of the chairs as she paced behind her desk. He counted her steps and once she had gotten to sixty, reached over to grab her arm and still her movements. 'What's up? If something's wrong- just tell me what's going on.'_

_She nodded and fell heavily into her chair. 'I'm sorry, Greg. I hate to do this to you, but' she stopped short and tucked her hair behind her ear. When she looked up, she had a small, grim smile on her face. 'I'm going back to California. I just can't do this anymore. I hate to do this do you, especially after all we've been through together, but Vegas isn't home. It never was. I need to . . .'_

_Greg held up his hand, effectively cutting off her protest. 'You need to go home. I understand.' He stood up, and for a moment, Sara thought he would leave. Instead, he came around the desk, leaning his hip up against it as he took her hands in his. 'It's okay. No one expected you to stay here forever. No one stays here forever.'_

_He had seen the signs of burn out in her long ago, but it was obvious she was loathe to admit defeat. Until now that was. But it was okay. Everyone moved on, Cath and Jim had. And now they were happy. If Sara had a chance at that, she deserved it._

_'Did you get another job offer?'_

_'Uh, no. Its just that, well, I need to be closer to' she cut off her words, a blush creeping up her cheeks._

_'Grissom.' Greg smiled and squeezed her hands. She still loved Gil after all this time. She still loved him even though Gil would never be able to return those feelings. 'Good for you. It's about time you do something for yourself.'_

_'But I don't want to leave you here. We're the last of the team and'_

_'And I'll be fine. Families go separate ways but that doesn't mean they love each other any less. You need to go do what's right for you. We'll still see each other. I promise.'_

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A month later she turned in her badge and gun, only turning one last time to give me a smile before she walked out of the lab for the last time.

_TBC_

_Next Part- Love's Legacy_


End file.
